


one-mississippi

by hawkseye9



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Royai - Freeform, Thunderstorms, riza hawkeye - Freeform, roy mustang - Freeform, youngroyai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 21:16:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21083216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkseye9/pseuds/hawkseye9
Summary: Even Riza can admit she can be afraid of a few things. Maybe, thunderstorms.And maybe Roy has been grounding her since long before Ishval.Riza remembering things, that's all.





	one-mississippi

**Author's Note:**

> A little drabble while I'm working, because I can get away with it. Nothing special, just on my mind in between my main fan-fiction I'm working on and everything else.

It was the loud crash of thunder that jolted Riza from her sleep. Not that her sleep was ever restful by any means, she’d long since lost the privilege of having a nightmare-less rest. Ever since her days in Ishval, not one single night has gone by where she wasn’t haunted by the dry arid climate tainted with the dark crimson blood of every person she sniped. The nightmares twist their faces, the screams all jumble together, like tracks of music being played on top of one other, fighting for her attention. These nightmares will probably never leave, and they’ve become more or less a part of how she remembers her sins. Some nights were now just a little easier than others. 

But the thunder, ringing out like one of the many gun shots, woke her from a cold sweat. She sat up instantly, her trained sense on guard for an intruder, an enemy entrancing on her bedside. There was no one, of course, the dark bedroom greeting her with emptiness, aside from the furry black mass curled at her feet, perking up at her stirring. Black Hayate, her always loyal dog, ready to fight when she is. She gave him a reassuring smile, leaning down to pat his head, signaling there was no danger. He laid his head back down and continued his slumber, no nightmares for him to be concerned about. 

She noticed the heavy rain now, pounding against the glass of her bedroom window. Ah, just a storm. She sighed, though not with relief. Since she was a child, she’s always hated storms. She would even dare go as far to say she was a little frightened of them.

The Hawk’s Eye, the deadliest sniper in all the military, scared of a little rain and thunder. Of course it wasn’t exactly the rain itself, nor the lightning striking bright, or the loud crashes of sound.  
When she was young, before her Colonel had stepped foot into her home for his apprenticeship, but well after she had lost her mother, she’d gotten into a fight with her father. This was a common occurrence after her mother died, her father losing his wife seemed to sap the warmth from his very being.  
Riza didn’t remember the reason for the fight, the memory long since worn away with time. 

Probably something childish like breaking a plate, or not being good enough to learn from her father, but she decided to run out the back door when he had returned to his precious work. 

The young Riza hadn’t realized it was storming, but the door had well since slammed behind her, probably alerting Berthold Hawkeye of her absence.  
So she ran. As far as her small, pale legs could take her, she ran into the forest behind their broken and sullen home. 

It was dark, almost too dark to see, the dim light of the moon was well hidden behind the storm clouds. She knew the start of forest well enough though, and her feet slammed against the sopping wet ground with loud, defiant squishes.

However, after what felt like ages, she’d run too far, into too unfamiliar territory, her anger still carrying her deeper and deeper. Her feet began to catch on things, before a sudden branch jutting out of the ground finally got her, throwing her forward. Before she could hit the ground she tried outstretching her arms as a saving grace, crying out into the darkness. 

She slammed into the mud and rocks, scraping her hands and knees, pain shooting from her ankle to her fingertips. She’d manage to save her face from smacking into anything, but she could feel the blood starting to appear from her other injuries. The rain was relentless, and her only source of light was from an occasional lightning strike, illuminating her surroundings for only a split second. 

She had wanted to curl into a ball, and cry, she remembers, exhausted and terribly alone. Always stubborn, she choked back her sobs, her throat burning. She had tried to stand, only to be greeted with even worse pain in her ankle. She sprained it, and walking was not going to come close to happening any time soon. 

That’s when she lost her composure and began to cry, braced against what felt like a large rock. Uncontrollable sobs rocked her small body, God knows how long she’d held them in. The anger had melted into fear, as she realized she was completely alone in the frigid rain, trapped with an injured ankle, and no sense of direction. 

It must have taken over an hour to compose herself again, or what felt like an hour to a child. Her breaths slowed in to shuttering, hollowed heaves as the sobs subsided.  
The memory began to get fuzzy, years later it sank farther back into her mind. Riza thinks she remembers making it to almost dawn, when the storm slowly dissipated into the pale blue of the dawn sky. Her father angrily calling her name, finding her sitting on the damp earth, desperately clutching her swollen ankle with her knees pulled to her chest. She thinks she remembers apologizing. She knows she remembers her father scolding her for her carelessness as he scooped her into his arms to carry her home, the most paternal thing he’d done in a long time. She clung to the warmth. 

Riza hated thunder storms since then, childish as it may seem all these years later. They reminded her of weaknesses that even she isn’t immune from, no matter how desperately she tries. The way the thunder comes from nowhere to startle her out of her senses, the blinding lightning in the unforgiving rain. No matter how strong she becomes, how much she can steel her will, the fear that even in doing those things, they will never be enough. An enemy can be strong, appearing out of thin air, taking her life. Or worse, taking the life of the man she swore to protect with her own. 

She took a deep breath and listened carefully to the storm outside again. While she may harbor hatred, she did have a way to counter the quiet fear buried in her.  
When she was 14, Roy Mustang had arrived into her home, creating his own form of annoying, persistent chaos. Riza had absolutely despised his arrogant, ridiculous behavior, his stupid smirk and glinting eyes. He never stopped trying to befriend her, and there was nothing she feared more than getting close to someone.

Unfortunately, he always had a knack for wearing her down, even back then. Their secrets accidentally spilling out to one another as the grew more vulnerable from proximity. Their need for someone to understand them, for company, or just a friend, bringing them slowly together, whether Riza had wanted it or not. She hadn’t at first, but the longer she spent with him, the more she had sought him out herself. 

Then one night, months into Roy’s apprenticeship, a storm came. Riza remembers herself shooting out of bed at the first boom of thunder, and her feet carried her to Roy’s bedroom door. She didn’t remember what led her there other than pure instinct, honestly. She raised a shaky hand and knocked quietly, afraid he’d already fallen asleep. 

“Come in!” Roy’s muffled voice came from behind the door, and Riza obliged, carefully opening and closing the door behind her, casting her gaze at the floor shyly. She nervously fiddled with her nightshirt between her fingers, embarrassed to give the reason of why she was there. 

“I, uh….” She hesitated, knowing he would probably just tease her for being a scaredy-cat. 

Roy knew something was wrong, sitting up from his studies on his bed and patting the spot next to him. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong if you don’t want to, ya’know. You can help me study.” 

Riza nodded, grateful he didn't pry, and joined him, too young to care she was sitting in bed with a boy. Roy went back to scribbling, and she peered over with curiosity at his alchemy notes. Quiet fell for only a few seconds, before a loud crash of thunder made her jump. Roy looked up and that stupid smirk appeared, much to Riza’s annoyance. 

She looked away in frustration. “It caught me off guard, that’s all.” She had huffed. 

Roy pretended to gasp and pointed at her, “You’re scared of thunder!” 

She shoved him from the bed, and he hit the floor with an “Oof!” 

He looked up from the floor, ready to push her buttons some more, but somehow he must have noticed the strain on her face, his demeanor changing almost instantly. He climbed back up onto his bed, closer than before. 

“I have a secret trick to thunderstorms, you know? So they can’t startle you and stuff.” He smiled at her as she spun her head to look at him. “Really? Can you teach me?” She pleaded, eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and hope. 

Roy nodded. “It’s really easy. Watch. We have to wait until we see the next lightning flash, okay?” Riza furrowed her brow and nodded seriously. They both peered towards the bedrooms single window in anticipation. 

_Flash._

Roy clapped his hands. 

“Start counting with me! One-Mississippi!”

Riza followed suit. “Two-Mississippi!” 

“Three-Mississippi!”

“Four-Mississippi!” 

_Boom._

The thunder came and Riza jumped again, but this time Roy’s hand found its way to her shoulder, reassuring her. “Just wait. I promise. Wait for the next lighting.”

They repeated their peering, Riza looking at it eagerly for her answer.  


_Flash._

Roy started immediately, “One-Mississippi!” 

Riza still didn’t get it, but she continued, “Two-Mississippi!” 

“Three-Mississippi!” 

“Four-Mississippi!” 

“Five-Mississippi!” 

_Boom._

Riza was less startled, and more intrigued. They’d counted a little farther, she noted. 

She caught Roy smiling at her puzzled expression. 

“Cool, huh? That means when you count longer, the storm is moving away, and you don’t have to worry. It’s miles and miles from here, and it's going even further every second. The thunder can be more predictable, too!” 

Riza stared at him in awe, that boy really knew his stuff. “Thank you, Roy.” 

He ruffled her hair, and she continued to count to herself has he finished his studies in the lamplight. 

The memory was fond to Riza, one of the many moments she held precious, innocent times before herself and Colonel were required distance by anti-fraternization laws, before they were both beaten and battered by war and corruption.  
She began to count quietly after the next lighting strike. 

“One-Mississippi,

Two-Mississippi,

Three-Mississippi.”

_Boom._

Again,

_Flash._

“One-Mississippi,

Two-Mississippi,

Three-Mississippi,

Four-Mississippi.”

_Boom._

She smiled to herself. The storm was moving further away.  
She continued counting until she slipped back into sleep, memories of two children learning to trust each other soothing her, as the thunder grew quieter in the distance.


End file.
